


Something That Finds You

by beargirl1393



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, semi-graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4045759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargirl1393/pseuds/beargirl1393
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and the kids have become close to the members of The Company in the past couple years since BOFA. One day Bolmi, Bombur's son, is visiting and finds Sigrid crying. She tells him that she just found out she was pregnant (the father was a visiting Dwarf who ran for the hills once he'd gotten what he wanted from her). She's terrified, she knows her father will be furious and disappointed in her and the scandal! The King of Dale's daughter an unwed mother!</p><p>So Bolmi, perhaps not thinking this through, offers to tell Bard it's his child. And of course Bard demands that he do the right thing and marry her, which he does. Neither he or Sigrid are sure about all this in the beginning but as time passes they find themselves actually falling for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the hobbit big bang. It's for a prompt I found on the kinkmeme which can be found here: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/13429.html?thread=25073781#t25073781
> 
> I'm going to be posting a chapter per hour.

_Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you._   
_Loretta Young_

* * *

 

The first thing that most dwarves would say about Bolmi, son of Bombur, was that he was just like his father. And, in some respects, they would be right.

He had inherited his father’s large figure, helped along by a healthy appetite, and he had a long thick beard that was the same color as his father’s infamous plait. He was a strong, sturdy young dwarf, and he’d gotten his fair share of admiring glances for his stout frame or his thick beard. Beyond the physical, Bolmi shared his father’s deep silence, but that was where the similarities ended.

He could talk for hours once you got him started, if you picked the right topic. He had a flair for cooking, but he didn’t have the passion that his father or even his younger brothers did. His craft lay in metalworking, making swords and tools mainly but creating fantastic metal sculptures and designs in his spare time. The Lady Dís bought a small set of figurines that he had made of the Company, exclaiming over the detail in their small metal faces and beards.

He had become friendly with a human lass, one of the ones who had helped his father and the rest of the king’s company when they were on their quest to reclaim Erebor. Sigrid was one of the few that Bolmi trusted, outside of his family, and he had long ago promised to help her whenever she needed help, as she had done for him.

That was, quite likely, what had gotten him into this mess.

* * *

 

“Alright, start from the beginning,” Bolmi said, setting a cup of tea in front of Sigrid. She had shown up in his rooms, which wasn’t entirely unusual, but the tear tracks on her cheeks and her red eyes were a new, and unwelcome change. He had ushered her in, making a cup of tea for them both, although it looked like she would need something much stronger, and settling into the chair across from her as he waited for her to speak.

Sigrid wrapped her hands around the mug, closing her eyes and inhaling the steam. She knew that she had likely worried Bolmi, she had been in a state when she arrived, but she didn’t know who else she could turn to. Admittedly, Bolmi wouldn’t be able to help her any more than anyone else could, but she knew that he wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened, would give her time to figure it out.

“After the battles, when things were settling down…I met a dwarf. He seemed wonderful, charming and rugged, and I thought he really liked me. He said I was special, that I was the only one he could love…” Sigrid trailed off, shaking her head. “He lied. He said many things, and all of them were honey-flavored lies. I gave him liberties that I have given no other, I gave him…everything, and then he left with the rest once they were permitted to return home.

“Does Dáin know about this?” Bolmi asked, although he doubted that the other dwarf did. If Dáin knew what his soldier had gotten up to, he would have ensured that the dwarf had been punished for lying to her, seducing her into his bed with promises he had no intention of keeping.

Sigrid shook her head. “No one knows, except for you now. I couldn’t…I was too embarrassed; I couldn’t admit that he had tricked me. I felt so stupid…”

“You aren’t stupid,” Bolmi said, shaking his head and brushing ginger hair out of his eyes. “He is, for not seeing the treasure he left behind when he left you. He is a fool thrice over for leaving you rather than keeping his promise. Any dwarf or man in their right mind would love to be with you. If you wish to marry, I am sure that you will have no shortage of offers.”

Sigrid smiled faintly. Bolmi always had such faith in her, regardless of whether it was justified or not. He was fiercely loyal to those he cared for, and she appreciated that about her friend. Her smile faded as she thought about the other offers. Soon enough, they would all dry up. All too soon, the news would spread like a wildfire, and she would be disgraced.

“What is it?” Bolmi asked, concerned at her grim expression. “Is it that you don’t wish to marry? There is no shame in devoting your life to a craft instead…”

Sigrid shook her head, chuckling bitterly. “I have considered marriage, Bolmi, but I know now that it will never happen. All the offers I have received will be rescinded very soon.” She saw her friend’s obvious confusion and sighed. “I am not…you cannot tell anyone what I am about to tell you, you must promise.”

“I promise, as long as your life isn’t in danger,” Bolmi said. He wouldn’t keep a secret at the expense of her life.

“My life isn’t in danger. My reputation, however, is,” Sigrid said, sighing. “I am pregnant, Bolmi.” She had yet to see a healer, but she had missed her cycle twice now, something that had never happened once the bleedings started. She was nauseous often, and fatigued…she remembered how her mother had been when she carried Bain, and later Tilda. She was displaying the same symptoms that her mother had in the beginning, and she wasn’t a dim young woman. She knew, very well, what it meant. “As soon as this spreads…I will be shunned. And so will the babe, as they have no father.” Unmarried mothers were treated like pariahs, considered loose and immoral.

Bolmi frowned, shaking his head. Sigrid didn’t deserve that. She was a wonderful woman, she deserved respect. She had been taken advantage of by a fast-talking dwarf, that didn’t mean that she was immoral. He knew for a fact that he had been conceived before his parents were married, although they had married before he was born.

His expression turned thoughtful at that. His parents hadn’t been shunned. Oh, there had been some whispering, of course, but they hadn’t been shunned as they had been together. The babe had a father, and they had married before he was born.

Sigrid couldn’t marry the babe’s father, as he had run for the hills as soon as he got what he wanted from her. But if there was another…it couldn’t be a man, the child would obviously be half-dwarf, it would be too difficult to hide. So, she would need a dwarf to say that they were the father of the child, if they wanted to avoid having her shunned for a mistake.

“I’ll say the babe is mine,” he said, after several minutes of silence, making Sigrid look up sharply. “I’ll tell anyone who asks that I am the father of your child.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sigrid stared at Bolmi, trying and failing to think of something to say. When she had come to see him, she had expected comfort, which she had gotten, but she hadn’t expected this.

And yet, really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Bolmi was loyal, she knew that, and he would do anything for those he cared for. Admittedly, no one would expect that loyalty to translate to this. Had he even thought this through?

“Bolmi, if you tell everyone that you are the father…we will have to marry,” she said. She knew that was true. Her father wouldn’t allow her to be an unwed mother, especially if there was a dwarf who was claiming to have fathered her child. He would make them marry, as soon as possible so that there wasn’t much talk.

“I know,” he said. Admittedly, he hadn’t thought of that at first when he offered, he just wanted to save her from the stigma of being an unwed mother. That was a shame that she didn’t deserve, so he wanted to do what he could to prevent it. Saying it out loud, however… “Your father will kill me,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. “And if he doesn’t, then yes, we will have to marry.”

Sigrid knew that her father wouldn’t be happy if she told him that she was pregnant and Bolmi was the father, but he would ensure that they were married and give his blessing. If she told him that she was pregnant by a random dwarf, who had told her sweet lies to convince her to share his bed and then left once he had what he wanted, leaving behind his child…his reaction would be worse, much worse. They had only just reclaimed Dale, and to have the King of Dale’s daughter as an unwed mother…he would be so ashamed of her.

She shook her head. “We’ll need to have the wedding soon, in a month at the latest. I will start to show soon enough, and there will be less whispering about the rushed wedding if there is no proof of the reason for the rushing. We will need to tell my father and your parents…”

She wished that her mother were here. Perhaps she would have some advice, a solution that they didn’t see. As it was, she and Bolmi spent hours talking in circles, trying to find ways out of marrying but still saving her reputation. They couldn’t think of anything, there was nothing they could do beyond what Bolmi had suggested. It was either take the shunning, shame, and even possible banishment, or marry her friend.

When it was laid out like that, really, what choice did they have?

* * *

 

They told Bolmi’s parents first.

Bombur and Morila were understanding, they had faced the same situation when they were younger, after all. There was none of the condemnation that Sigrid had feared and all of the acceptance that she had barely allowed herself to hope for.

They were practical, knowing that the wedding would have to be held soon so that she wasn’t showing visibly when they were married, and by the time Sigrid and Bolmi left, they had the beginnings of a plan. They couldn’t do anything definitely until after they had talked to Bard, of course, but they at least had more planned out than they had before.

* * *

 

The conversation with Bard went much less smoothly.

The normally even-tempered man was furious at the two of them, especially with the timing. Sigrid was near tears by the time his anger fled and he began to ask the same questions that Bolmi’s parents had. How far along are you, are you going to marry…When he asked that, however, both Sigrid and Bolmi knew that he wasn’t truly asking them.

He was telling them that they needed to get married, although they already knew that. Still, Sigrid couldn’t help but seethe over the unfairness as she followed Bolmi back to his rooms in Erebor so they could talk.

* * *

 

“We need to marry so I am not an ‘embarrassment’ to my father, but the dwarf who did this to me is able to get away without a penalty?” Sigrid asked, pacing in front of the fireplace with her arms folded over her chest. “Even if I had named the dwarf who is truly responsible, they couldn’t do anything. They can’t force him to marry me, or provide for the babe. And he wouldn’t have any stigma for leaving. Sure, they may talk, but he wouldn’t be shunned. It isn’t fair.” And she already knew, too well, that life wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t help it. As though protesting would do something, would help them find some way out.

Bolmi sat in his chair, watching Sigrid pace but not interrupting her rant. She was speaking the truth, of course, it wasn’t fair what they were being forced to do. It wasn’t fair that Sigrid needed to marry or be shunned, to risk being exiled with a babe she didn’t even know if she wanted if there wasn’t a father standing beside her.

And, at the moment, there was nothing they could do to change it. It took time to overrule such things, especially when it was so rooted in public opinion.

In time, they could work to have new laws passed. In time, things might change, and it may no longer be scandalous to be an unwed mother.

By that point, however, it would be too late for Sigrid. They had to marry now, to prevent the scandal, and they had to hope that by the time the child, if it was a girl, was old enough to be concerned about such things, wouldn’t need to worry if she found herself in her mother’s position.

He shook his head, getting up to go make tea for them both. With the way Sigrid was pacing, she wouldn’t stop anytime soon, and he had no problems letting her vent.

And, if he was hoping that this conversation would run late enough that they had no time to talk about the wedding details that night, that was his business.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to do it every half hour instead, otherwise it would never be finished posting before the deadline is over.

Sigrid paced in Bolmi’s rooms. Their rooms, after tonight, but it still felt odd to think, let alone say.

She was married to Bolmi. Her best friend had married her to save her reputation, because she had been taken in by a dwarf who had no intention to stay and deal with what had happened. A dwarf she knew nothing about, who could have a family for all she knew. A dwarf who had only been with her because he wished to try something different, not that she knew that until afterwards. She had thought that he loved her.

She had been an idiot.

 _Bolmi would disagree,_ she thought, smiling faintly. _He knows everything, he is the only one who knows everything, and he is the only one who isn’t treating this as though I’m the only one at fault._

Her father hadn’t reacted well to the news, had gotten through the wedding only through pure force of will to keep from causing a scene. Her new in-laws, by comparison, had welcomed her readily, brushing off apologies for the rush with chuckles and comments that they remembered being young, knowing just how hard it was to wait until marriage, getting a little careless and needing to make it right.

In all honesty, Sigrid wasn’t sure what to think. She had agreed to share that dwarf’s bed, had trusted his word that he cared for her. She thought she was stupid, that she should have been able to realize that he didn’t love her. At the same time, though, she wasn’t sure how she should have known. She had never been in love, had never been with another in that way, and it wasn’t as though her father had had time to give her an extensive talk. He was too busy, work was hard to come by when they were growing up, and now that he was King of Dale, he had even more responsibilities.

Still, things could have gone worse. She could have been shamed, banished even, and had to try to raise the child on her own while moving from town to town. Instead, she was going to have the help of her best friend and his family. Her father didn’t entirely approve, but as she and Bolmi were now married, she didn’t need to fear shame and banishment. Bolmi had told her that dwarven pregnancies could often last longer than human ones, so it was possible that no one would know that the babe was conceived outside of marriage.

Of course, that wasn’t her main concern at the moment. There would be plenty of time to worry about what people were saying, about how they would view the babe. There would be comments, she knew, as it wasn’t only that the babe was conceived outside of marriage, but it was also a child of two races. The future heir to Dale, unless Bain or Tilda had children, would be of two races, a half-breed. There would likely be much protesting over that, although Bolmi had said that the dwarves would accept the babe, half human or no, because of how rare children were in his race.

But even concerns about how her people would view the babe (she still had yet to wrap her mind around the fact that it would be /their/ babe) weren’t at the forefront of her mind at present.

It may be petty, it may be seen as trivial by others, but she was worried about where they would sleep.

She had shared a bed, only to sleep, with Bolmi in the past. He was her best friend, and his rooms didn’t have a second bedroom, so they had both slept in his bed. It was innocent, and she had felt entirely comfortable with him.

With what had happened, however, she was worried. She knew that Bolmi was nothing like the dwarf who had left her, but she still worried. What if he wanted to be intimate? She knew he was attractive, and he was a good friend, but she didn’t find him arousing. It might be because of what had happened, even the thought of being so intimate, so vulnerable, again was enough to turn her stomach.

Bolmi wouldn’t leave, she knew that, but she still worried about what would happen if he pressed for something she didn’t feel comfortable giving. He wasn’t the type to force himself on another, if she told him to stop then she knew he would, but all her last partner had wanted was sex and she was too blind to see it. What if history repeated itself?

Her thoughts were derailed when Bolmi re-entered the room carrying a blanket and a pillow. Sigrid looked at both of them curiously. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Bolmi walked over to the couch, putting the pillow at one end and the blanket at the other. Sigrid noticed, belatedly, that he had changed into sleep clothes. “Well, I didn’t think you’d be ready to have another in your bed, even to sleep, so I thought it would be best if I slept out here for now.”

They would have to find a better system at some point, he knew. He couldn’t sleep on the couch forever, and he really preferred to sleep in his drawers rather than in sleep clothes, but that would have to wait. At the moment, Sigrid was coiled tighter than a watch spring, and he knew that stress wasn’t good for either Sigrid or the babe right now.

Once she was calmer, more used to the idea, they could talk about it. If necessary, they would find another place that had three bedrooms. One for the nursery, one for Sigrid, and one for Bolmi. Regardless of what happened, he would do his best to make sure that everything went smoothly for Sigrid. She had been through so much stress and trouble, all because of one idiotic dwarf, and he would do whatever he could to keep from adding to it.


	4. Chapter 4

Sigrid looked at Bolmi, arranging his makeshift bed on the couch. “It is that simple?” She had expected a discussion, questions at the very least. To have none of that happen…it was odd. Good, great even, but still rather odd.

Bolmi looked up at her, settling down on the couch after a moment. “We are going to need to talk, I know that. But the past few weeks have been very stressful for you, today especially, and I think it would be better to talk about this once you’ve had more time to settle. Unless you want to talk now? We could talk now instead, if you wanted to.” He didn’t mind either way, but he’d thought that it would be better to give Sigrid time to get used to this before they started hashing out all of the details.

Sigrid smiled faintly, shaking her head. “Sometimes I forget, you know me better than anyone else.” She knew the opposite was also true, that she knew more about Bolmi than anyone else.

He was the eldest out of his many siblings, and that meant he had grown up faster, trying to help his family however he could, just as she had done when they were in Laketown. It had given them something to talk about when they first met, a point of connection, and their friendship had only grown from there. Still, sometimes she was still impressed by how well he knew her and she knew the same was true for him.

“I think I’d like to have a few days to get used to…all of this, before we have a talk,” she said after a moment. It seemed like she had barely stopped for breath since she had found out that she was carrying a child, and now they actually had a little time to adjust, to get used to the fact that they were married and going to raise a child together.

Bolmi nodded, smiling as he sat down on the couch. “You can take as much time as you want,” he promised. This wasn’t what either of them had envisioned when they thought of marriage, but they were going to make it work. Sigrid was his best friend, she knew him better than anyone else, and they had done this to save her and the babe. They would be able to work out the details, all of the details, once they had time to adjust to the fact that they were married and that a babe would be joining them in six months, roughly.

“Goodnight,” Sigrid said, moving to hug him and smiling when he hugged her back. “Goodnight,” Bolmi replied, smiling when she pulled away. “Your sister made sure that all of your things were brought here, and it’s all in the bedroom. Your night things and everything should be in one of the boxes, I think.” He hadn’t wanted to invade Sigrid’s privacy too much, after all, so he had left her belongings alone.

She smiled and went to the bedroom. Maybe this could actually work out well. It would take time and effort, but she thought that they would be able to make it work somehow.

* * *

 

After the wedding night, the two settled into something of a routine. Bolmi would make breakfast, since he rose earlier, and Sigrid would handle the dishes. Lunch they would spend separately, Sigrid reading up on what to expect with a dwarven pregnancy and getting their things arranged in their rooms. She was also trying to find her place in the mountain, to find a craft that she would enjoy and be good at, but that was more difficult than she had expected. At dinner, she would usually make something and he would do the dishes, then the pair of them would settle in the sitting room. He would sometimes smoke his pipe, especially if it had been a stressful day, and they would talk until it was time for them to retire, Bolmi to the couch and Sigrid to the bedroom.

She was in her fourth month, her stomach just beginning to round, and they had been married for a month, yet neither of them had made any attempt to broach the subject that had only briefly been mentioned on their wedding night.

Sometimes she would see Bolmi open his mouth, as though he were going to broach the subject, before shaking his head and closing his mouth, going back to his food or his pipe. She had found herself doing the same a few times, but she had stalled as well. When they didn’t discuss it, nothing needed to change. Both of them were happy with their current arrangement and neither of them wanted to risk that by bringing up the subject they had been avoiding.

Still, they couldn’t go on like this. She had seen Bolmi rubbing his back and shoulders, stretching out the tension gathered from another night on the couch, something that could be avoided if they spoke about this now.

She was settled, as was he, and she thought that they were both as comfortable with their marriage as they could be right now. This conversation was making them both a bit tense, she knew, and she wanted that tension gone. For better or for worse, she wanted this issue to be resolved.

 _Besides,_ she thought wryly, watching as he set the table while she finished cooking dinner, _it isn’t as though things will suddenly become worse. We already know the best and the worst about each other, a simple conversation about who will sleep where shouldn’t be this difficult._

Sigrid watched Bolmi as they ate dinner, talking occasionally but also simply sitting together quietly. There was never pressure to chatter just to fill the silence; they were both comfortable with it. They were comfortable with each other.

When dinner was over and he was starting to wash the dishes, she lingered in the kitchen rather than going to sit in the sitting room to wait for him as she usually did. She continued to watch him, hearing the faint humming as he scrubbed the plates and smiling fondly. For all that he didn’t love to talk, he enjoyed singing or humming quite a lot.

She had a moment of regret over interrupting him, but it was necessary. If she didn’t start this now, she would find an excuse to put it off, just as she has the past several times. So, she cleared her throat, waiting for him to look at her before speaking. “I think we need to talk.”


	5. Chapter 5

Bolmi startled when Sigrid spoke, turning to look at her. He had thought she would go into the sitting room as she usually did when it was his turn to do the dishes. He knew she was still trying to find a craft that she enjoyed, being a human in a dwarven settlement wasn’t easy, so he had thought she would be perusing another of the tomes about guilds and crafts, or one of the healing texts she had borrowed so that she would know what to expect as time went on and the babe grew.

Instead, she said that they needed to talk.

“What do we need to talk about?” Bolmi asked, setting a clean dish in the rack to be dried once he was finished. “Did something happen?” He knew there were those who were dissatisfied with having a human in the mountain, married to the son of one of the famous Company and being taught all manner of dwarven secrets. He knew Sigrid would never betray his trust so he wasn’t worried about teaching her such things, but there were others who felt that she didn’t deserve to learn their secrets, married to one of their race or not.

Sigrid shook her head. “No, nothing happened.” Although some of the more traditional dwarves disliked having her there, none of them were foolish enough to cross the Company and the King Under the Mountain, all of who had attended the wedding and had done their best to ensure that she felt at home in the mountain. She had been startled, and touched, by the easy acceptance of Bolmi’s family and friends.

“I want to talk to you about our relationship,” Sigrid said, biting her lip to keep back a chuckle when Bolmi nearly dropped the dish that he was washing. He blushed nearly as red as his hair as he set it on the rack with the others, it was rather adorable.

“What about our relationship? Is someone asking questions?” That would be bad for Sigrid, the whole reason that they married was because they didn’t want her or the babe shunned because she was an unwed mother. If someone asked the wrong questions...

“Or is your father displeased still?” Bard seemed to be of two minds when it came to Sigrid and Bolmi. He seemed to be fine with the fact that Sigrid married a dwarf, but he was still unhappy that they married after the babe was conceived. Bolmi knew that his parents were accepting of it, mostly because they had done so themselves and it wasn’t as much of a concern for dwarves as it was for humans, but Bard was still upset, the last Bolmi had heard, and he knew how much it hurt to have a parent disappointed in you, even for something that wasn’t entirely in your control.

Sigrid shook her head. “It’s nothing like that. I spoke with Tilda yesterday, in fact, and she found a few things for the babe. Toys, more than likely, but she will have gotten some clothing for the babe as well. No, this isn’t about that, it’s about us. We can’t keep going on like this, if you sleep on that couch for too much longer, you will have a permanent crick in your back.”

Bolmi’s eyes softened at that. “Well, right now, we’re a bit busy to be picking out a new couch, and we haven’t had time to look for another place yet. And I won’t force you to sleep on the couch, especially not now. My mother would be disappointed in me.”

Sigrid smiled faintly. From what she knew of Bolmi’s family, which was quite a bit more than she knew several months ago, his mother would have been upset with him for making her sleep on the couch while she was carrying ‘his’ child. Still, he seemed to have missed the obvious answer entirely.

“I meant, we could share the bed,” Sigrid said, Bolmi stilling at the sink. “I know…when we first married, I wanted to sleep alone and you respected that, which I am thankful for.”

“I wasn’t going to force myself on you,” Bolmi said, shaking his head. “We may be married now, but we’re still friends, not…lovers.”

“I know,” Sigrid said, smiling. “It is one of the things I love about you.” She may not be in love with her friend, but she did love him. “But, I know that you will not press for an advantage, nor will you expect anything to happen. The bed is big enough for both of us, we shared before whenever I would stay with you for the night.” Which was likely why her father had no difficulty believing that the babe was Bolmi’s, but that wasn’t the point she was trying to make. “You can sleep in the bed instead of on the couch. It will be better that way.”

She didn’t like taking the bed and forcing her friend to the couch, and she knew that she could trust Bolmi. He had been one of her first friends when they settled in Dale, after he and his family arrived to join his father in the mountain, and he had yet to betray her trust.

They had argued, of course (which was apparently a longstanding tradition amongst dwarves, whether with family, friends, or their intended), occasionally fighting and not speaking for a few days. One or both of them would go and apologize after that, however, and then they would be as thick as thieves once again.But throughout all of it, the arguing and making up again, the rebuilding of Erebor and Dale and the consequences of her night with another dwarf, Bolmi was still there, as he always was.

He was her best friend, and even if they were not lovers, they could still sleep in the same bed. _After all,_ Sigrid thought wryly, _we are married now, after all, and most married couples share a bed._

Bolmi turned back to the sink, washing the plates with a pensive look on his face. “It does make more sense that way,” he agreed after several minutes passed. “But all we’re doing is sleeping.”

Sigrid nodded, pleased. After how the other dwarf had lied to her, she wasn’t sure about trusting another in such an intimate manner again, so it was good that Bolmi didn’t expect anything like that. Still, it would be nice to cuddle with him again. His beard was softer than it looked, after all, and sleeping with another kept away nightmares, something that she knew was true for Bolmi too.


	6. Chapter 6

After their talk, things went rather smoothly for Bolmi and Sigrid.

They found time to look at other homes, finding one that suited them, with a room for Bolmi to craft in and another for Sigrid, so that she could have space if she needed it, as well as the one for the baby.

Bolmi had surprised Sigrid by how eager he was to shop for baby things, men never were that excited about shopping, in her experience. But, as time passed and she spent more and more time with the dwarves, she began to see that all dwarves seemed to be like that.

There were female warriors and male weavers, among other things. Gender seemed to have no relevance among the dwarves, nor did sexuality. What one had between their legs or on their chest didn’t matter, nor did their preference in bedmates. It had startled her, because the Master of Laketown had been particularly strict on that point, but the dwarves didn’t even consider it.

All dwarves also seemed to be fond of children. Whether they had their own, or even if they didn’t want their own, they were always happy to interact with children. Bolmi had explained how rare children were to his race, so it wasn’t truly that surprising anymore. When she had let him feel the baby kicking for the first time, his resulting smile seemed, to her at least, brighter than the sun.

The months passed like that, Bolmi crafting and Sigrid still trying to find a dwarven craft that she would like and be good at. They both spent time decorating the babe’s room, a crib hand made by one of Bolmi’s sisters and clothing made by one of his brothers.

The Brothers Ri, who had been part of the company that reclaimed the mountain, also donated clothing and blankets.

Bolmi’s father, Bombur, made sure that Sigrid had whatever food the babe made her crave, which turned out to be quite a lot.

The gruff old healer, Oin, assured her that both she and the babe were in full health. It was smaller than a typical human babe, but larger than a dwarven babe. That was to be expected due to its mixed race, however, so the healer had told them not to worry.

Oin’s brother Gloin was fond of reminiscing about when his wife was pregnant with their two children. She listened attentively, as the stories were new to her, but Bolmi later confided that Gloin told the same stories quite often, as he was very proud of his wife and children.

Months passed and the date she had expected to be due came and went. Oin wasn’t bothered, as dwarven pregnancies lasted for a year compared to the nine months of a human pregnancy. He assumed the babe would arrive somewhere between the two.

Even though she wasn’t technically overdue, however, by the time her tenth month rolled around, she was more than ready to have the babe out of her.

Her ankles were swollen, her back ached nearly constantly, even with Bolmi providing massages, and she would have to run to the bathroom more times each day than she had ever thought possible. She wanted the babe to arrive, even if she was worried about the birth itself. She was tired of being pregnant, she just wanted to be able to hold her child.

In desperation, she started asking the few female dwarves that she knew what she could do to bring on the labor. Gloin’s wife swore that eating spicy food had brought on her labor with Gimli so quickly that Oin actually dropped him when he was born. Bolmi’s mother had simply said that the babe would come when it was ready. All of her children had come when they decided they were ready, and not a moment before. Lady Dis suggested walking, as she had done so when she was pregnant with her oldest son. She also mentioned that having relations was a common method of bringing on labor, but Sigrid wasn’t going to try that.

When spicy food didn’t work, and any of the other advice she had gotten had also failed to help, asking Bolmi’s assistance in that particular area started looking better. Before bringing that up, however, she decided to try Lady Dis’s other suggestion first.

* * *

 

“So you want to go on a walk, through Erebor, to try to bring on labor?” Bolmi asked, looking at his best friend (and wife, although that was still odd to think) in confusion. He knew she was exhausted, and that even though the thought of birth worried her, she wanted the babe to come soon. Now, if possible.

“Yes. Lady Dis said that it helped, and I want to try it,” Sigrid said, calmly packing a small bag with a blanket and outfit for the baby and for herself. If the walking did work, it would be easier to go straight to the infirmary that way. If the walking didn’t work, they could just bring it back home with them.

“What about your feet? And it’s been a bit more difficult for you to walk since the babe dropped,” Bolmi pointed out, although he took the bag when it was handed to him.

“I want to try. I promise to tell you if I get tired and find a place to sit,” Sigrid promised, rubbing her back as she slowly started out of the room. “Besides, Oin advised light exercise, didn’t he? I just can’t go riding because it could hurt the babe.”

Bolmi shook his head but followed her. If she wanted to walk to try to induce labor, he would help her. And if she ended up needing a back and foot massage when they got home to help with her soreness, he would help her with that as well.

They wandered through Erebor, picking up a small basket of food and drinks from one of the stalls in the market, so that they would be able to stop for lunch at some point.

Their walk took them to the still unrepaired section of Erebor, Bolmi showing Sigrid the home that his uncle Bifur, the only one of their family that had been born when the dragon came, had lived. She was fascinated, and they eventually decided to have their lunch there before heading back.

They were in the middle of their meal when there was an ominous rumbling, followed by a loud, ground shaking, crash.

Bolmi ran to the door, opening it and coughing at the sudden cloud of dust. A large stalactite had fallen from the ceiling, landing in front of the door. It was large enough to block most of the doorframe, with only a sliver of space on the sides, not enough for them to crawl through.

They were trapped.


	7. Chapter 7

It didn’t take the two long to realize what had happened. One of the large stalactites that hung from the ceiling in this part of the city had fallen down, likely jarred by the repairs that were still being done nearly constantly to get Erebor back to its former glory.

Ordinarily, that would have been their cue to go. There was no telling how many more would fall, or if the buildings would be able to withstand the falling stalactites. When Bolmi went to open the door, however, he found it completely blocked by stone.

There was nothing they could do at this point but wait.

* * *

 

“At least we know that they will come looking for us at some point,” Bolmi pointed out, once an hour had passed. “My parents are coming over for dinner tonight, and they planned to come earlier so that my mother could give you the baby blanket she made.”

“Well, at least we can expect to be rescued in soon,” Sigrid said, sighing. Neither of them were happy to be trapped there, worried that the house would collapse around them or another stalactite would fall, this one landing on the home.

“Maybe we should have saved the examination of my family’s old home for another day,” Bolmi said, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I just really wanted to see where Uncle Bifur had grown up. He was the one who told us about Erebor, what it was like and how things would be once Erebor was reclaimed.”

“He always knew that it would be?” Sigrid asked. It had taken over one hundred years, after all, and the dwarf had gotten an axe to the forehead fighting with his king during that time. It would have been natural to doubt after all of that.

“He always was certain that Erebor would be reclaimed,” Bolmi replied, nodding. “He never seemed to doubt it. He said that it was because of how King Thorin was, so sure of the fact that he would reclaim Erebor. It would take time, but he would never give up. Erebor would be a great kingdom again.”

“Well, it looks like he was right,” Sigrid said, rubbing her stomach. It was cramping, but she had been having practice contractions, as the dwarf healer called them, for awhile now, so she wasn’t worried.

“He was, something I’m very glad of.” If not, he would have lost his father and both of his uncles on a fruitless quest, rather than having his family all together in Erebor. He also would have never met Sigrid if it wasn’t for the quest, and her family’s involvement in it, so he was doubly grateful that Erebor had been reclaimed.

They lapsed into silence for awhile, thinking about their current circumstances and what would have happened if Erebor was never reclaimed.

After awhile, as a distraction from the increasing practice contractions, Sigrid asked, “What do you think the babe will be, boy or girl?”

“There are more males in dwarven society than females,” Bolmi said. But, secretly, he was hoping for a little girl. He would be happy with either, it would be their babe and they would love them, but he was hoping for a girl.

“With men, it seems to be an even split,” Sigrid said. “So, there isn’t any real way of knowing until he or she decides to arrive.”

“Have you thought of any names?” he asked, curious. He had been toying around with a few dwarven names, but he wasn’t sure if she would want the babe to have a human name.

“I was thinking Ingrid, after my mother,” she admitted. “I wanted to honor her by naming my first daughter after her, if I ever had one.”

Bolmi nodded, easily able to understand that. Dwarves often named their children after relatives, like Dain naming his son after Thorin, and Thorin himself being named after one of his ancestors. Dain was named after an ancestor as well, so there weren’t any dwarves that would protest the name once they learned the reasoning.

“As for a boy’s name, I would like you to choose that,” Sigrid continued, surprising Bolmi. “I thought it would be nice, you could choose the name if we have a son, and I would choose if we have a daughter.”

Bolmi nodded, that seemed fair. It was how his parents had done it, his father naming Bolmi himself and all of the other boys, while their mother handled naming the few girls.

“I have actually been thinking about names,” Bolmi admitted. “Only boys names though, because I didn’t want to jinx it.” Dwarves could be a superstitious lot at times, and although he usually wasn’t, Bolmi had taken the precaution this time.

Sigrid smiled, truly he was adorable sometimes, especially when he was flustered, or shy about something. “Well, that worked out well for us, didn’t it? What have you come up with?”

“I was thinking Morbel. It means ‘brave warrior’.” It was a good, strong name for a dwarf, in his opinion. If they didn’t have a boy, it wouldn’t matter that much, but if they did, he thought that their son would grow into it.

“Morbel, I like it. Kind of reminds me of marble,” Sigrid mused, rubbing her stomach again. She was starting to get tired of these cramps, practice or not.

“So, Morbel son of Bolmi, or Ingrid daughter of Sigrid?” Bolmi asked. He thought they would be good names for their children, regardless of which name was needed.

Sigrid nodded, already used to how dwarves used their parent’s name rather than a last name when introducing themselves. That was one aspect of the name that she didn’t mind leaving entirely dwarven. After all, they were living in a dwarven kingdom.

She winced when one of the practice contractions was stronger than the others, shifting in her seat. Usually they had let up by this point, even if she didn’t have the energy to get up and walk. And that last one especially had felt…different.

“Bolmi? I think our walk worked.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Semi-graphic birth, mentions of death in childbirth (because that's how I think that Bard's wife died)

It took Bolmi a few minutes to register what Sigrid said. It was far from the best scenario, Sigrid was supposed to give birth in the infirmary, or at least with a healer present in their home. Not when they were trapped with no idea when they would be rescued. He knew that by dinner someone would start searching for them, but what if the babe came before then? Before they were rescued, before a healer could be found to help Sigrid.

He tamped down on those thoughts after a moment, though. Sigrid couldn’t be stressed, it would just make things worse for her and the babe. He knew a little about delivering babes, he had been present at most of his siblings’ births, and during the last appointment, the healer had said that the babe seemed to be positioned properly.

They could do this. They had to, really. The babe was leaving them no other choice at the moment.

* * *

 

Sigrid saw several expressions flash in Bolmi’s eyes. Confusion, followed by comprehension, followed closely by panic. He seemed to get ahold of the panic after awhile, although what he was thinking of, she couldn’t say.

For her part, Sigrid was terrified. She knew next to nothing about childbirth, despite all of the reading she had done. She hadn’t been present for either Bain or Tilda’s birth, it wasn’t done among men, but she remembered how her mother had died birthing Tilda, and how Tilda nearly didn’t make it as she was born too early.

Their babe was late, by human standards, but it was also early by dwarf standards. The healers thought that he or she would be fine, and had even estimated that her due date would be between what was expected for a woman and what was expected for a dwarrowdam.

Even though she had wanted the babe to come soon, it was why she had gone on the walk in the first place…now that it was happening, she was terrified. They didn’t have a healer, nor any idea when they would be found. There were things in the birthing bag that would work well enough, and Bolmi had been present at the births of most of his siblings, but that didn’t make her worry lessen.

She was afraid that she would die, that the babe would die. She knew the healers said that it would be safe for the babe to be born anytime now, but she also knew that it was an estimate. None of them had delivered a half-human child, no one knew the precedents for this. Everything was speculation, and although it had seemed well founded until now…now she was going to deliver this child with only her best friend for assistance. She thought that fear would be excusable in those circumstances.

“You need to try to relax,” Bolmi murmured, apparently sensing her unease. “I know you’re scared, and you have every right to be, but you need to try to relax, for your sake and the babe’s. If you’re too tense, it will just make it harder for your body to do what it needs to do to get the babe out.”

She hadn’t thought of that, but she did remember the healers telling her that she would need to do her best to keep calm while in labor, that hysterics would just make the pain worse as her body would need to fight against the tension caused by her panic.

Not panicking was easier said than done, it turned out, but she did her best, doing the breathing exercises that the healers had taught her and concentrating on the things that they could control, rather than the ones that they couldn’t. She had to rely on the thought that they would be okay, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to get through this, even with Bolmi’s help.

* * *

 

The pains slowly but steadily grew closer together. Sigrid began to realize, after a time, that the cramps she had experienced the night before had been the start of her labor, not merely practice contractions. Her walking hadn’t started the labor, it had simply helped to move it along.

During the hours that she spent when she actively knew she was in labor, walking had proved to be very helpful. It relieved some of the pressure on her hips, which she was grateful for, as they had started to ache fiercely as the contractions continued.

Her water broke within an hour of them realizing she was in labor, which was what had sparked her realization that she had been in labor, albeit without realizing it, since late the night before.

Bolmi had checked her, which had been an embarrassing experience for them both, and he estimated that it wouldn’t be long until she needed to push.

“You’ll know,” he assured her, helping her walk around the room, their pace slow and halting each time Sigrid had a contraction. “I’ll check to be sure, but you’ll know when it’s time.”

Sigrid had to trust that he knew what he was talking about, since he knew more about birth than she did, even after reading the healing tomes. She wished that she had been able to brave her embarrassment and ask Bolmi’s mother about what to expect during labor. What was done was done, however, and she couldn’t change it.

She found, however, that Bolmi was right.

It was on one of their many circuits of the room when the pressure built, and she found herself shifting into a squat almost without thinking about it. She felt the urge to push as the contraction peaked and she did, holding on to Bolmi’s arms and gritting her teeth as she pushed. She found, as she panted and tried to relax during the break between the contractions, that pushing was something of a relief. While the contractions had seemed like pain without purpose, now it seemed like they were actually doing something.

Bolmi had, with her permission, rucked up her dress so that he would be able to see the babe once it emerged. He was pale, but seemed determined, coaching her through the pushes, reminding her to breathe, and simply supporting her when she felt like no progress was being made.

Soon, she felt a fierce burning pain, realizing that this was what the books had warned about, the babe’s head beginning to crown. She panted thickly while Bolmi pressed his hand gently against the dome of the babe’s head, offering a counter pressure to her pushing.

It took all of her willpower to stop pushing when he told her to, to pant while the widest part of the babe’s head emerged, and she couldn’t help the groan of relief that escaped once the babe’s head was finally free.

Bolmi checked for the cord while Sigrid sipped from the flask of water that had been brought with them, and once he said that it was clear, Sigrid started pushing again. She groaned when she felt the babe turning slightly, so that the shoulders would be able to emerge. It took two forceful, straining pushes to free the first shoulder, and she barely had a second to catch her breath before she was forced to bear down again, the second shoulder coming free. One last push and Sigrid shouted in surprise and relief at the absence of pain, as the baby emerged completely, Bolmi catching them and cradling them gently, cleaning their airways with the small tool she’d gotten from a healer near the beginning, in the event of homebirth and packed in the baby bag.

He helped her sit, careful of the cord that still connected her to the babe, and she was surprised to find tears in his eyes as he carefully placed the babe on her chest. Her dress was already ruined, what did a few more fluids mater. “Ingrid,” he murmured, before carefully getting to his feet and moving to get the baby bag from the kitchen.

Sigrid panted, trying to catch her breath, and stared at the crying infant on her chest. This was her babe, their babe. Her daughter, her Ingrid. She barely noticed Bolmi returning and doing what he needed to before cutting the cord that had connected their daughter to her for the past ten months.

This was the being she had risked exile for, that she and Bolmi had married to be able to keep. Staring at the smushed face of the infant, she found no memories of the babe’s father came to mind. Her mind remained in the present, tracing the faint hint of whiskers on her daughter’s chin and smiling tiredly at Bolmi when he finally settled beside her.

“Your daughter is beautiful,” he murmured, looking at Ingrid as though she was worth more than twenty Arkenstones.

Sigrid cleared her throat, taking his hand and meeting his gaze when he looked at her. “Our daughter,” she corrected, and it was not a lie.

Regardless of who had created the babe, Bolmi had done more for them than the dwarf she had lain with ever had. Regardless of blood, and in her eyes, Bolmi was Ingrid’s father and the only father her daughter needed.


	9. Chapter 9

The new parents had an hour to themselves with Ingrid, during which time Sigrid delivered the afterbirth and nursed Ingrid for the first time. Bolmi helped Sigrid drink some water, and they cleaned up Ingrid as best as they could, although they would need to do a better job once they were free.

An hour after Ingrid was born, they heard a commotion. Bolmi went over to the door, shouting for help, and they heard answering shouts. His parents had started searching for them when they didn’t show up for dinner, and thankfully someone had seen the pair of them going into the part of Erebor that had yet to be repaired, and thus had given his parents a place to start their search.

It took a further two hours for the rock to be cut and shifted enough that Bolmi, carrying Sigrid who was carrying Ingrid and had the bag in her lap, was able to get out of the door. After that, they were whisked off to the healers, Bolmi pushed off to the side while mother and daughter were examined, checked to make sure that the unplanned arrival hadn’t harmed either of them.

Thankfully, both Sigrid and Ingrid were declared perfectly healthy, and by the end of the following day they were home at last, finally able to spend time alone together and with their daughter, getting acquainted and forming a bond with her.

There was a lot of learning, in the early days. Both Bolmi and Sigrid had younger siblings, but it was one thing to babysit and hand their charge back to their parents at the end of the day, and quite another to be solely responsible for their own child.

It had taken them time to get used to it, but over time things started to fall into place. They learned to distinguish with cries were because Ingrid needed to nurse and which were because she needed changed, and then made up a schedule for who would get up with her when. It helped them be a bit more well rested during the day, so that Bolmi could work and Sigrid could continue her studies on dwarven culture, and they could both take turns taking care of Ingrid.

Sigrid would admit, if only to herself, that she had worried that Bolmi wouldn’t take to Ingrid because she wasn’t really his daughter. He had adopted her, of course, but she had seen parents in Laketown who had treated their adopted children like slaves or servants, rather than part of the family. Bolmi was too sweet to do something like that, she knew that, but she had still worried.

Watching him carefully rock Ingrid, singing her a dwarven lullaby that she could only understand bits of, had put those fears to rest. From the first moment he had held her, after she was born, there had been nothing but love in his gaze. There was no sign that he thought of her as anything other than his daughter, and the pride in his voice when he introduced her as Ingrid daughter of Sigrid…it still caused her to smile, even after a few weeks passed.

Watching Bolmi with Ingrid, and thinking back to how caring and attentive he had been during the time she was carrying Ingrid…she knew he had no ulterior motives, he truly just wanted her to be happy and for the babe to be well cared for, and that was part of what made her question what they had.

She had fallen into bed with a fast talking dwarf months ago and had regretted it the next day. Not only because she had ended up carrying a child, but because it had been clear from his actions the next day that the dwarf hadn’t cared for her. All he had been looking for was a good time before he went back to his home, he hadn’t felt anything for her.

She and Bolmi were only good friends, admittedly, but perhaps that could be the beginning to something else.

He was a good friend, he had been there for her when she needed him from the moment they met. He cared about her, she knew, and he loved Ingrid. Females were rare in his race, he had admitted, and thus Ingrid was treasured even more. He had been there when her child, their child, had been born, holding her hand and coaching her through the labor to the best of his abilities. He got up in the middle of the night, unlike some human husbands that she had heard of, changing Ingrid’s diaper and rocking her until she managed to fall back to sleep.

She had found them asleep on the sofa in the living room more than once after an early morning diaper change, Bolmi laying on his back with one hand covering their daughter’s back as she slept on his chest, head resting on his thick beard.

He loved her, at least as a friend, and she felt the same for her. She knew he was a good father to their daughter, better than the dwarf who had sired Ingrid would have ever been. The babe looked enough like both of them that no one had questioned them, not as of yet, at least. He had taught her the dwarves’ secret language so that she would fit in under the mountain, and so that, once Ingrid was older, she would be able to help teach her.

All in all, Sigrid mused as she rocked her two month old daughter back to sleep after she had been fed, perhaps it would be possible for them to turn this marriage, started only to save herself and the babe from certain exile, into something real.

It would take time, she knew, and it would take a lot of work on both of their ends. It was possible that their relationship wouldn’t bear fruit and they would realize that they were better off as friend. But, it was better to try and have things not work out than to continually question ‘what if’.


	10. Epilogue

Ten years wasn’t very much, as the dwarves measured time. They were a rather long-lived race, although not as much as the elves, and thus ten years passed rather quickly inside of the mountain.

Even living in the mountain, though, ten years changed quite a lot.

* * *

“Kyra, pick up your toys if you don’t want your brothers to get to them,” Sigrid called, in the process of getting dressed for her shift in the infirmary. Over the years, once she had mastered Khuzdul and settled more in the mountain, she had started helping in the infirmary. She found that she liked it, and had started taking lessons from the healers, becoming a healer herself in time.

She enjoyed her work, and she and Bolmi had come up with a schedule that allowed one of them to be home with the children at all times.

Children, plural, as their family had grown.

* * *

Sigrid had indeed spoken with Bolmi about her thoughts on their marriage, and he agreed that it would be worthwhile to give a proper relationship a real shot. It had taken time, of course, but within a few years of Ingrid’s birth, their marriage felt less like a sham and more like what both of them thought a marriage should be.

That isn’t to say they never fought of course, nor that they were perfect, but they always managed to make up and they had grown to truly love each other, as husband and wife rather than simply as good friends.

By the time Ingrid was three, she was joined by a younger sister, chubby cheeks and ginger hair reminiscent of her father. A few years later, when Ingrid was eight and Kyra was five, they were blessed with twin boys, Beltik and Harbur.

Their family seemed to be complete, now, with Beltik and Harbur crawling around the living room while their sisters picked up any toys they didn’t want drooled on and Bolmi watched them fondly from his chair.

He had moved most of his work to the craft room he had made in their home, so that he would be able to take care of the twins and their daughters when Sigrid was working, but would still be able to work on commissions as necessary.

Initially, Sigrid had worried over Ingrid’s development, as she seemed to be developing more slowly than a human child would. When she had brought her concerns to Bolmi, he had been surprised. He had thought the opposite was true, that she was developing far more quickly than most dwarflings would. It had required several discussions with various healers and doing research on their own, but had eventually come to the conclusion that Ingrid, and later Kyra and the twins, were developing at a typical rate, considering that they were the children of two races.

It wasn’t always easy, of course. Ingrid and Kyra had come home in tears, or brought home by a guard after getting in a fight with another child, because of the taunts about being half-human and half-dwarf. Sigrid herself had endured mutterings and whispers about why Bolmi had chosen a human, why she was being taught their language, their secrets…well, the list went on and on.

It wasn’t in her nature to cower in their home because of gossiping busybodies, though, and in time she had learned to brush them off, and they were teaching their children to do so as well. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what they thought of them. Bolmi’s family and friends accepted them, her brother and sister loved babysitting their nieces and nephew, and her father had eventually come to terms with their relationship and had stopped obsessing over the fact that she had been pregnant with Ingrid when they married.

There had been a few points, over the last ten years, that Sigrid and Bolmi had considered telling their families the truth about Ingrid’s conception. They didn’t like lying to their families, especially not after Bard had finally accepted the rushed marriage between Sigrid and Bolmi. They had considered telling the truth, letting their family, but no one else, know that Bolmi wasn’t Ingrid’s father by blood.

In the end, however, they had decided that it would cause too much of a fuss over something that had been settled years ago. Sigrid didn’t Ingrid to feel like Bolmi wasn’t her father, or that he loved her any less than he loved her sister and brothers, and Bolmi had agreed. He had always said that it was her decision about who was told and who wasn’t. He knew that, even after several years passed, she was still embarrassed about what had happened. In recent years, she had admitted that, in a sense, she didn’t regret what had happened as it had led to Ingrid, and the formation of their family, but she still hated that she had been taken in by the other dwarf, who she had still, even after a decade, refused to name.

* * *

 

Sigrid stood in the doorway for a moment, looking back at her family before she left for work. Bolmi was sitting on the couch, the twins in his lap as he read to them, getting them ready for their nap. Ingrid and Kyra were getting ready to head to their lessons, Sigrid would be dropping them off on her way to the infirmary and Bolmi and the twins would pick them up afterwards.

Ten years ago, she had gone to her best friend in tears because she thought that she would be exiled from her home. Ten years ago, her best friend had come up with a plan just mad enough that it could actually work, to prevent her from being shamed and shunned.

Now, she was a successful healer with a family that she loved and who loved her. They had four wonderful children, something that she would have never anticipated, and they were happy together. It was very different than what Sigrid had expected, but she had found that love isn’t something you find. Love is something that finds you, often when you least expect it.


End file.
